I've been having some really bad writer's block, so I hope this chapter is good. If it's not, please review and tell me how I can fix it!
Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.
/./././
It's been a long, good summer. The past weeks have been filled with late nights around the campfire, truth or dare in the Apollo cabin, and the occasional harmless prank on Mr. D. It's mid-August now and Thalia and Annabeth are watching Percy surf down at the canoe lake. Or try to surf. The kid can conjure up massive waves in an unimpressive little body of water, but he can't even balance on a surfboard. Figures.
"Tell him to ditch the board," Thalia suggests lazily to Annabeth. "He's the son of Poseidon, right?"
Annabeth rolls her eyes, but she calls out, "Hey, Seaweed Brain, ditch the board!"
Startled, Percy looks up, loses his stability again, and tumbles into the waves. Both girls crack up. Annabeth's curly hair lights up white in the sun, and her laugh is a natural one. Thalia can tell why Percy fell for her.
He emerges from the waves totally dry, an ability which always throws Thalia off, then waggles his fingers at his girlfriend. Annabeth waves back.
"You two are so old school," Thalia grumbles.
Annabeth leans back with a smile. "Whatever you say."
That's another thing. Thalia was used to taking care of Annabeth, treating her like the seven-year-old child she was. She definitely can't do that anymore. Their relationship has undergone more than a few minor changes, but she has to give Annabeth credit for her tenacity. The loops and twists of time aren't any match for the daughter of Athena.
As if reading her mind, Annabeth looks over, shielding her eyes with one hand. "You all right?"
"Of course," Thalia replies, but her eyes are fixed on the lake, where Percy's busy conjuring up some more magic waves. "I've got it this time, I swear," he shouts energetically.
"Why doesn't he just go down to the beach, where the real waves are?" Thalia mutters.
"He's showing off."
"Ohhh," she says. Some people would call her tone sarcastic, but she likes to think of it as ironic. "Right."
Behind them, a few Aphrodite girls are chasing Travis and Connor Stoll, shrieking insults at the two boys. They are surprisingly fast, like antelope. Even in their designer sandals.
Travis spots Annabeth. "Hey!" he shouts desperately. "You're Athena's kid! What's the best strategy to get me out of this awfully sticky situation?"
Annabeth raises an eyebrow, but Thalia cuts in. "I'd say run."
Turning to his brother, Travis runs off with renewed gusto. Before long, the girly shrieks and flying compacts fade away.
"Thalia—" Annabeth breaks off, her face uncertain. The look on her face is unmistakable: she has whole paragraphs, confessions, entire novels that she'd like to speak, but she isn't sure if she should. "You—you're not mad at me, are you?"
Thalia can't disguise her astonishment. "No," she says, frowning. "That's stupid. Why would I be mad at you?" But she's a little uncomfortable with where the conversation is going. She's always felt like Annabeth always got what she wanted, while Thalia had to scrounge on the edges for anything at all. It's not Annabeth's fault, it isn't even true, but sometimes it's hard to contain her every person, there's something they have to fight for, and she's sure that's true for both Annabeth and her boyfriend. It's just that there's a spark of anger she can't contain sometimes, something unnecessary and brutish. It frightens her a bit, though she knows how to counteract it.
And she doesn't want to speak any of this, doesn't want to hurt her friend. So, abruptly, forcedly, obviously, she changes the subject.
"Where can I get a soda around here?"
Annabeth's sly grin comes back. "Usually I'd say the Stoll brothers—but you might want to wait a while before you ask."
/./././
Chiron announces another game of Capture the flag at dinner that night. After winning the first one by a long shot, Thalia wouldn't miss this one for the world. Then Chiron surprises everyone by adding that this time, the Hunters will be split among two teams to "even things out a bit." Naturally all the Hunters complain. But Thalia was a camper once, and she remembers just how it feels, not to mention the time period when she'd rather die than accept help from one of Artemis' Hunters. In fact, she's been here so long, she almost forgot who she came with. Thalia can't help but be swept along with the breeze of excitement that ripples through the tables.
The Ares cabin immediately claims Apollo and Hecate, but Athena's kids select Hunters first. Good strategy, Thalia thinks, especially when Annabeth picks her first. Having the right Hunter on your side could guarantee a win.
Thalia's not like the other Hunters. Not at all, actually. If the circumstances had been different, she would have belonged here, at Camp Half-Blood, hanging out in the Zeus cabin and kicking people's butts at the arena. But joining the Hunt was the right choice then. It was the only way Thalia could have saved herself, both from the prophecy and from—Luke.
Fighting the gods beside Luke wasn't what she wanted. Revenge wasn't what she wanted. But she knows she would have been tempted if he was there persuading her, with his broken face and his broken promises. So she removed herself from the equation completely.
She's never regretted it.
Maybe she could have had a family at Camp, too. But in that first summer, that slow dreary winter, she could never have belonged here.
Stares follow her everywhere. Most of the half-bloods are friendly, but she gets the feeling that none of them really want her there. She feels like ice. Everyone is looking past her, through her, as if she's invisible.
She had almost thought that everything would be okay now. She wasn't dead, she wasn't a tree anymore, she had Luke and Annabeth here. How could she have been so wrong?
The first time she meets Mr. D, she instantly dislikes him. Okay, so his attitude is annoying, and he refuses to call her anything but 'girl', but he's also the god of wine. She doesn't want to draw a connection, but it's so easy to blame Mr. D. for the way her mother turned out. Every time she even glances at him, at his bloodshot eyes and his red nose—it's difficult to keep her mother's memory from resurfacing.
She'd feel bad for these thoughts if he wasn't such a jerk. Unfortunately, he's also a god, so she can't blast him.
And some people here—Mr. D. included—seem to hate her, just for being alive. Why don't they hate Zeus for breaking the oath? Or Kronos for trying to use her? Or Luke for poisoning her tree? She's already starting to hate Luke. She can feel it spreading through her body of ice, warming her like venom.
The memory doesn't bother her anymore. It's just something that happened, another piece of time that reminds her how temporary everything is.
She's happy where she is. And that's not going to change.
Though it's worth it to visit Camp, if only to kick everyone's butt at Capture the Flag once in a while.
/./././
Like Thalia predicted, her team wins Capture the Flag. She ends up with more than a few cuts and bruises, but these things are only to be expected.
The day after, she's helping Connor Stoll and a quirky new son of Nemesis rig a trap in front of the Ares cabin. Clarisse led her siblings out to the sword arena a couple minutes ago and they hopefully won't come back any time soon. Rory, the son of Nemesis, has turned out to have a surprisingly large amount of tricks up his sleeve. Connor's declared him an honorary Hermes kid.
"I've been helping you with pranks for years, and what do I get?" Thalia complains.
"Zeus might zap me if I suggested you weren't his," Connor says with a straight face.
Rory finishes installing a nearly invisible trip wire, and Connor goes over to help with a few other mechanics. Thalia, in the meantime, is in charge of hooking up the slimy fresh stash of seaweed Percy provided her with.
Maybe not entirely appropriate behavior for the lieutenant of Artemis, but Thalia's never outgrown her mischievous streak.
Finally, the three of them step back to admire their handiwork. "That's going to be one angry war god cabin," Rory remarks with a crooked grin. It's remarkable close to the good-natured one Thalia used to know, so many years ago.
/./././
Annabeth's been acting a little weird. Percy has been too, but that's another story. Because there was seaweed involved in yesterday's prank, Clarisse thought a Poseidon kid was responsible, and Percy's been lying low ever since. Thalia hadn't counted on that. But at least she's not the one being hunted down by an angry Ares camper.
But Annabeth hasn't even really talked to her since that day by the canoe lake. Not that she's avoiding Thalia, but whenever they meet, it's full of the kind of vapid small talk she usually hates. Thalia can sense that Annabeth wants to say something really profound and life-changing, and Thalia hasn't been too encouraging.
I would give anything to return back to those days, ghost-Luke whispers. You and me and Annabeth, a family again.
That's something she told him she'd uphold. So she'll talk to Annabeth.
But for now she just wants to savor the warm-sunlight feeling she's been having, like absolutely nothing could ever go wrong.
